


Frantic [The Rip My Clothes Off Club Mix]

by Caeseria



Series: Kaboom! [The Work Your Body Till it Hurts Playlist] [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Begging, Blow Jobs, Collars, Come Eating, Consent, Hand Jobs, If you are not reading this on AO3 then my work has been stolen, Lapdance, M/M, Omega Lance (Voltron), Scenting, Sexual Tension, Stripper Lance (Voltron), Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 00:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeseria/pseuds/Caeseria
Summary: Everyone knows Club Altea has the best omega revue and cabaret this side of town. So when the gang buy Keith a private lap dance for his birthday, its a bit of a surprise to find out that the captivating and sensual omega known as Blue is actually in pre-heat.Things are about to get... frantic.





	Frantic [The Rip My Clothes Off Club Mix]

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is bought to you entirely by my utter unquenchable thirst for Lance McClain, _Kaboom_ by Lady Gaga, and _For Your Entertainment_ by Adam Lambert. Please join my cult. I'm Caeseria on tumblr should you need to scream at me and @caeseria_nsfw on twitter :)
> 
> *If you are not reading this on A03, then my work has been stolen and is being distributed without my permission.*

Keith pulls his hoverbike into the parking lot of Altea, parking it under one of the light posts. He's just finished working on the bike, got it running again after a few years of it sitting in someone's garage, jacked it up until it looks shiny and new. There's no way he's gonna park this in a dark corner and invite someone to steal it after all that hard work and money he's put into it.

He climbs off the bike, pocketing his keys, and stares at the entrance. The parking lot is a lot fuller than he's seen it other week nights – the odd time he drives by here, it's usually mostly empty. Must be one of those special cabaret nights Shiro was talking about a few days ago, when they all made the decision to head here for Keith's birthday. Shiro had said something about celebrating that and the fact that Keith's finally managed to save enough cash to buy into the hoverbike repair shop he works at as a full partner. Keith's life finally appears to be on the turn around, and he's surprised to realize he's more than a little eager to celebrate that at last. It's been years in the making.

Altea is one of a couple of strip clubs in Garrison – not that Keith's ever really bothered with going to any of them. He prefers his local bar, or a beer at home with the gang, maybe a cook out at the weekend. Actually bothering to go to a club is one of those things Keith just can't be arsed with; dressing up, pretending to want to socialize – no thanks. Still, it's his birthday so he's made an effort, put on a pair of tight black jeans he knows shows off his ass well, and a red button up shirt, sleeves rolled up casually because there's no way he's going formal for a room packed with half-naked people and drunk assholes.

The outside of Altea looks like some kind of spaceship; white with neon blue strips around the walls. The subsonic bass of dance music sends a soft reverb into the park lot, working its way into Keith's solar plexus, settling like a warm invitation to step inside. When he pulls the front door open the music hits him in the face like a brick wall after the quiet outside. It takes a few minutes for Keith to stop wincing, to check his jacket at the coat check, and make his way into the club proper. 

Inside is more of the same décor: white walls with neon blue lighting, crawling up the walls into the dim corners, splashing across the floor. The house lights are down; there are a couple of girls and a guy working the poles on stage in a half-interested fashion. Keith watches the guy for moment, then turns his attention to the bar that snakes along the back wall on a raised platform. There are no servers moving between tables; round white trays lit with that same neon blue float between tables and the bar, delivering orders. The difference between here and other clubs is that there are human bartenders; Keith spots a woman shaking a cocktail and pouring it with a ridiculous flourish into a glass for a middle-aged man in a suit. 

He spots Hunk first and waves, it's hard to miss him, even in a crowd. He's talking with Shiro, and some tall, slender guy Keith doesn't know in a green jacket, with a beanie pulled down over his ears. The guy leans forward, whispers into Shiro's ear, and then all three turn as Hunk points Keith out. Keith starts walking over, watching as the guy leans into Shiro's space again, takes something, and then pats him on the shoulder, slipping away at the last minute just as Keith approaches.

"What was that about?" Keith asks in greeting. "New guy not even gonna stick around for an introduction?"

"He's working tonight," Shiro explains. "Shall we get drinks and a table?"

Keith nods, leaning in to accept birthday hugs. "Pidge coming out this evening?" he asks as they find a table near enough to the stage but far enough to avoid the crazies at the front.

"They'll be here in an hour, once they get off work," Hunk explains. He pushes a blue drink across the table toward Keith.

"What the hell is that?" Keith says with an eyebrow raise. "Don't they have beer in here?"

"Hell no," Hunk offers. "This place is supposed to be classy."

"With strippers?" Keith deadpans. "You can have beer and strippers."

"Well, it's your birthday, so we're having _fancy_ drinks and strippers, Keith," Shiro says with a grin. "Happy birthday and congrats on being a part owner of a legitimate business!"

Everyone clinks glasses and Keith manages a smirk as he sips the blue alcoholic disaster. It's about what he expected; strong and sweet, a little sticky, but it goes down ohhhh so well. His smirk grows a little bigger. "Okay, it doesn't taste like shit," he admits. "Even if it's blue." Still, it'll be the only drink of the evening, birthday or not, because he's gotta get his hoverbike home in one piece.

Pidge shows eventually, and the room fills with more people as midnight approaches. Shiro had mentioned something it being Omega Revue Night or some bullshit. Keith can't see it; this isn't some back alley strip club peddling omega like in the old, less enlightened days. Nobody leashes people any more based on secondary gender, nobody suffers bonding bites being forced on them. Omegas aren't hounded for their breeding capabilities, and Keith can't understand why a fancy ass joint like this would play up something distasteful like that. At the most, this will, no doubt, be a burlesque show; at the very least, a team of dancers – probably beta – playing the trope up for a crowd ready to buy into the fantasy.

"How long till this thing starts?" Keith asks.

"About five minutes," Hunk guesses, staring at his watch. 

"I'll be back," Keith says, pushing out his chair and heading for the bathroom. He weaves around a few floating drinks trays, pushing into the relative quiet of the back corridor. Even here, the décor is clean, no sign of this being anything other than a pricy, well managed club. It's a surprise. Keith finishes up and returns to the bar. The place is now packed; Keith can see he's not going to make it anywhere close to the table with his friends before the show starts. The best he can do is wedge himself off to the side of the main stage and wait until the first act goes through, then work his way back to the table.

The house lights drop suddenly, coming back up again in a flicker, which Keith can feel as a spark of excitement in his chest, along with the rest of the crowd. 

As the mood lighting finally settles down, a bass beat starts up, timed like a beating heart, and it pools in his gut, drawing his eyes to the stage. There's a sudden noise, and then what appears to be chain link fencing rises from the floor, rising higher and higher until the stage is completely blocked by it, impassable to anyone on the floor. Keith's whispered _what the fuck_ goes unnoticed amongst the shouts from the crowd near the stage. Some of the idiots actually rattle on the links and catcall. 

Keith feels like he just stepped into the _Thunderdome_, and he has no explanation for why he suddenly feels like his heart rate has skyrocketed and is beating in his throat, mouth dry with anticipation.

Some guy elbows him in the side, yelling, "Oh shit, you are gonna love this!" Keith raises an eyebrow, because he is _not_ going to lose his cool over a chain link fence and mood lighting. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to _Altea_," croons a deep, smooth voice over the sound system. "Tonight's what you've all been waiting for, it's Wednesday!"

Keith rolls his eyes again, because he knows its Wednesday. It's been Wednesday all day and Wednesday is his birthday, which is why he's here. 

"Welcome to the Altean Omega Review!" the MC says excitedly, and the crowd goes a little crazy again. _Now_ Keith gets it; whoever ran the club did a brilliant job with this. Hyping the crowd with the chain link fence, the promise of forbidden fruit, the fact that there would be actual omega on stage, within reach maybe, but untouchable. But hey, if it gets the crowd's rocks off, who cares, right?

The first group of 'omega' take to the stage, hyping the crowd with pole work and teasing the audience, aloof and indifferent. Getting a rise out of the crowd, working them up for the main event, even if none of them even make eye contact with the crowd. That surprises Keith, wasn't the whole point to make enough bank to take home at the end of the night? You have to interact with the crowd if you want their money, after all. 

Keith takes a moment in the lull of excitement to push through the crowd, skirting the front of the stage near the chain link barrier because the space is clearer there. He'll slip by, across the front, and then approach the table from the side before the main act starts. 

It's a stellar plan, right up until the spotlights flick down and plunge the crowd into darkness, the only lighting left the aqua blue neon strips against the walls. Slowly the spotlights rise, showing an empty stage, and Keith realizes he's trapped right at the fucking front, just as the MC says, "Ladies and Gentleman, what you've been waiting for, Blue, our favourite male omega! You all know how rare male omega are, give him a warm welcome!"

The crowd around Keith goes absolutely apeshit, just as the spotlights flash blue and then white, settling onto the stage, and a background beat picks up, just as a tall, slender boy with chestnut brown hair and sun-kissed skin steps onto the stage in a tight, sleeveless black crop top, and a pair of long gloves that end at his knuckles and just kiss his muscular biceps. He has a plain black band around his neck, hiding his scent glands, and he's wearing a pair of black sweatpants that hang low on his hips, showing off his belly piercing and his Adonis belt. Keith's mouth goes dry when he suddenly realizes it's the boy in the green jacket and the beanie he saw talking to Shiro earlier, and holy fuck, what a difference. Keith feels a warm pull settle in his belly, and he licks his lips. 

Blue – as the MC called him – struts along the length of the chained off stage, staring ahead, running his hand along the metal links, and barely acknowledging some of the people rattling it like dogs in a cage next to him. That gesture of indifference amps up the tension in the room to breaking point; a skillful acknowledgement that he is untouchable; nobody can have him, that the crowd is just there to watch. That they are at his mercy, a male omega with the lusts of everyone in the room resting in his hands, against his hips. All the alphas, ready to bark at his whim. 

Just as the intro music stops, he turns to face the crowd, and smirks, finally acknowledging the crowd with one hand on his hip, a soft laugh falling from his lips that Keith is close enough to hear over the background beat of the music. This boy – _Blue_ – is amused. 

_Holy shit_. Keith might actually have died, because this boy is hotter than fuck and he knows it. There is nothing sexier than confidence, and this boy has it in spades. Keith actually feels his face heat up, just as Blue seems to notice him and looks him straight in the eyes and winks at him, face lit up with mischief before he steps backward toward the middle of the stage, leaning back to grab the pole in his hand and swing around it lazily as his music starts up; a catchy beat that's instantly recognizable from every club he's ever been forced into by well-meaning friends. 

_You gonna get that You gonna get that Then I need the money _

_Kaboom_

Keith is officially dead, because, _shit_. This boy is just his type; lean, leggy and flexible. He stares, not realizing he's pressed himself against the chain link with the other desperate types, fingers curled into the wire, watching as Blue starts to work for it. The way he dances is a polyglot of hip-hop and dance moves, mixed with a sensual understanding of the music. The roll of his hips, movements slick and smooth as he moves to the music, running his hands down his stomach and abs, eyes closed as he feels the beat. That alone in itself is sexy, the way he seems to lose himself to the music, like he's alone. Everyone else may be watching him move, but Keith is watching his face, watches as Blue bites his plump bottom lip, opens his eyes and drags his gaze hungrily up Keith's body, like nobody else is in the room.

_Don't want love just give me your bling bling  
Listen to me boy cause I need your thing thing_

The lights strobe in manic flashes to the beat, and Keith can see this is choreographed skillfully, like a rock concert, full of rough lighting and smooth, sweat-slicked skin. Still, Keith should learn not to be complacent; just as he settles into the music Blue moves, crossing the stage swiftly, grabbing the links and slamming his hands into them in time to the music.

_Kaboom_

When Blue grabs the barrier it's like putting flame to a firecracker. The crowd ignites, goes fucking crazy, surging forward in response to Blue's challenge. The atmosphere has changed; it's frenzied, a little dangerous all of a sudden. Blue tilts his head back, observing the crowd, rolling those hips against the chain link, running his hand down his neck, then staring the crowd down as he teases them with the clasp holding the collar closed around his neck. 

_Let me see your body work (work)  
Work your body till you make your body hurt (hurt)_

They all want it; what he's teasing them with. Unclaimed omega – scent glands unbitten, almost within reach – if he wasn't locked behind a chain link fence, that is.

_Kaboom_

He runs his hands back up his stomach, and _fuck, those abs_, Keith thinks_, Jesus Christ_. Blue grabs the hem of his crop top and slides it over his head, throwing the garment to the side with a flourish, another wink at the crowd. His hair is mussed, and now Keith thinks he looks like he's just been fucked hard, used and still wet. Against his tanned skin, the band around his neck is stark, a tease, taunting him and the rest of the crowd. Keith can feel his alpha growl inside, and Keith is shocked; he usually has his baser instincts under control.

Blue pushes himself against the chain links, stepping back before anyone can get a hand on him, hand teasing at the waistband of those low-slung sweats, slipping his fingertips inside and then stroking over his cock. The air feels tight in the room, like Keith can't breathe, and he realizes he's half hard in his own pants, just from watching this wet dream work the crowd up into a frenzy. No wonder this club is so damned popular, he thinks.

_Stop messing around cause you know what I mean  
Wanna beat on my drum (uh huh) cause I know you come come_

Blue raises his hands above his head, strokes his hands through his tousled hair, eyes heavy lidded as he watches the crowd, watches Keith. He's definitely watching Keith, and that makes Keith's blood simmer in his veins. He hasn't been this hot for a boy in months, in years. It almost makes him lightheaded with want.

_Kaboom_

Blue's hands stroke down his sides, to his hips. In a sudden, smooth movement, he grabs the sweat pants and rips them off, leaving him in only a pair of dark blue boy shorts, gloves and that damn collar around his neck. Blue is half hard, and Keith can't handle the thought of that; it blows his mind.

_Bang Bang boy wanna beat on my drum  
Beat on my drum cause you know I come come_

Blue slams his hands on the fence again in double time with the words; a tease, taunting the crowd, rolling his body up against the chain link. This close Keith can see the sweat on his tanned skin, how hard his breath comes from the workout, can see the smear of glitter across those abs and that belly piercing. Keith wants to lick it all off, slowly, watch this boy cry and beg for it. 

The song is winding down now, money littering the stage beneath Blue's feet like a carpet. This time, Blue stares down Keith, mouthing the lyrics to the beat of the music, leaving Keith in no doubt what Blue wants.

_Bang Bang boy wanna beat on my drum_

Keith smirks back, curls his fist in the links and surges forward, almost within reach of all that beautiful, slick, tanned skin. 

Blue grins back, eyebrow raised when he mouths the next line: _Beat on my drum cause you know I come come_

He slams his hands on the fence a last time and steps backward, out of reach. He runs a hand down his neck again, fingers sliding under the collar, right over his scent glands.

The final bars of the song fade out, and the spotlights flash off, plunging the club into shocked darkness. The lights come up to an empty stage, and the intermission music starts. The crowd starts to disperse, a low murmuring of people resuming conversation as they return to their tables, head to the bar for drinks.

Keith feels off balance, body tight with desire, with excitement and no outlet for it. He feels wrong in his skin; knows he needs to get off. He's never had a reaction to anyone like this; secondary gender or not, and he has no idea why he's reacting this way. Maybe he should go home, get his frustrations out with a good jerk off. 

He's about to head back to the table when he's approached by a server with the most incredibly long silver hair. She's carrying a tray with a glass of champagne on it. "Mr. Kogane?" she says with a smile.

"That's me," Keith says, eyeing the glass of champagne. 

The woman dials up her smile. "Happy Birthday on behalf of Altea," she says, passing him the glass of champagne. "On the house, of course. Please follow me."

"I'm going to –" Keith gestures toward the table his friends are at.

"You don't want to keep your guest waiting, do you?"

_Guest_? Keith follows her more out of curiosity, down a long corridor that turns until they must be in the back stage area. The music is muted here, not nearly as loud. There are a couple of doors, spaced out, with numbers on them, and she opens one and ushers Keith inside. 

"You have until you finish your champagne, Mr. Kogane, however long or short a time that takes. Enjoy the show," she purrs, and shuts the door.

_What the fuck_? Keith looks around and takes a sip of his champagne; it's not bad actually, a little fruity but not too sweet. The room is lit with dim mood lighting of course, but the décor is all the same white and blue, rather than the tacky red velvet and black Keith usually associates with a strip club. The lowered lighting makes the room feel enclosed, private and isolated, and the steady beat of the background music only increases that feeling. 

There's a comfortable looking couch in the middle of the room, with a table to one side and Keith is heading toward that when there's a knock on the door and then it opens, to reveal Blue. He smirks at Keith and shuts the door, crossing his hands behind him and leaning back, languid and at ease. He's wearing another pair of obscenely tight boy shorts – these are red – and the collar and gloves, but not much else, other than a smear of glittery body butter. "Hey, Birthday boy," he purrs, tipping his head to the side. "Fancy a dance?"

_Oh, shitfuck_, Keith thinks. Some of that must show on his face, because Blue lets out a sultry laugh and pushes off the door with his hips. He moves his hand to the wall, pressing against a hidden panel for a few seconds, and then struts slowly toward Keith, who at this point is pretty much a stunned deer in the headlights. He has no idea what he should be doing right now but he can't find the energy to panic much because all his thinking brain cells are currently in his dick, demanding attention.

Blue reaches out and takes Keith's hand, unresisting, and walks backward to the couch, pulling Keith along with him. "You ever had a lap dance before, Kitten?" he asks.

_Kitten_? Keith wants to be livid over the pet name, but instead it sends a trickle of warmth into this stomach, a thrill down his spine. Fuck, he's beyond horny. "No," he manages to reply, letting Blue tug him a little closer until he can take Keith's champagne. Then he pushes Keith down into the couch, barely letting him settle before climbing into his lap, wriggling around a little until he's comfortable. Not quite sitting on Keith's dick, not quite close enough to engage – yet.

"'Kay," Blue says, leaning forward and placing a hand on the back of the couch. He gives Keith his champagne back, fingers touching briefly around the glass. "This is how this works." Blue looks down at Keith for a moment, licking his lips, before he looks back up and makes eye contact, a slight flush of arousal on this cheekbones. "Your brother, who is the best person in the world for paying me to do this, by the way, wants you to have a good time, so, I'm gonna give you one. House rules are this; one; you have until the end of your glass of champagne before our time is up. If you want to leave, simply finish that glass of champagne now. Two: if you choose to stay, no touching, unless I say so or give you permission."

Okay, so that should not be so fucking hot when Blue says it like that, holy god. "Understood," Keith says. He shifts a little, because his dick is insistently pushing against the zipper of his jeans, and it's getting uncomfortable, to say the least. Keith makes sure he has eye contact with the gorgeous boy above him, and slowly takes a sip of his champagne. It fizzles on his tongue, and Blue watches him intently, watches Keith swallow. Then Keith hands the glass to Blue. "Put that on the table for me? Don’t wanna spill it."

Blue seems to startle, and then he laughs, taking the glass and leaning over to put it out of reach. When he sits back up he says, "Good, I was hoping you were going to stay. I've been watching you all night and I'd have been a little disappointed if you'd left."

Keith laughs, fingers tightening on the fabric of the couch since he can't reach out and touch all that warm tanned skin in front of him. "I bet you say that to all the boys to come to your party."

"Only the really hot moody looking ones," Blue says with a wink. He's got a remote in his hand; Keith figures it must have been on the table. He fiddles with it for a moment, clearly selecting a song, mischievous look on his face. "Oh, this is perfect." 

He's half talking to himself, and Keith grins, because he has a feeling Blue isn't playing much of a character at all; this is how he is in real life. He's sort of…sexy but coquettish at the same time? Sensual and erotic because holy shit, the boy is a sexbomb in more ways than one. Hot and ready to go off at any second. Keith oh so wants to be the one to watch him lose it, _damn_.

Blue presses the play button and tosses the remote to the side, sliding off his lap to stand as the music starts. Keith almost laughs, because he's heard this song a million times, but then again, he's never had a mostly naked boy staring him and his dick down like its dinner while it's playing, and now Keith can see the appeal. _For Your Entertainment_ – oh fuck, yes.

He watches Blue run his hands down his own body, over his chest and nipples, watches as that hand slides lower to his piercing and then he raises an eyebrow and smirks as he steps forward, stalking toward Keith. Keith has a second to mentally panic before Blue places a hand on his shoulder, sliding around behind the couch, never breaking contact, ducking his lips down to Keith's ear as he runs his hand through his hair. Blue's heated voice echoes the lyrics as he sings softly,

_Push the limit_  
_Are you with it?_  
_ Baby, don't be afraid_  
_ gonna hurt 'ya real good, baby_

Keith's dick might have just twitched at that, and he is so beyond fucking thirsty for this boy he can't even think straight. It only gets worse when Blue runs his hands over Keith's shoulders, down across his pecs, fingertips sliding under the buttons at the top of his shirt, flicking a couple open with practiced moves before he moves back to the front to face Keith. 

_I'm a hold ya down until you're amazed  
Give it to ya 'til your screaming my name_

Blue drops to his knees, crawls toward Keith with that knowing smirk on his face, not breaking eye contact until he has his hands on Keith's knees. He looks down, back up and spreads Keith's legs, dropping down to the floor and arching his spine as he rolls back up, mouth an inch from Keith's cock in a parody of what Keith actually fucking needs right now. He wants to grab Blue's thick hair, clench tight until he whimpers, and shove that pouty mouth down on his cock all the way to the base until he chokes on it. 

Blue knows what he's thinking; that smirk turns into a soft laugh of amusement, but he's laughing with Keith, not at him. He's having fun, Keith realizes. Blue crawls his way back into Keith's lap, settling a _lot_ closer, and there's no doubt that Blue is at the very least half hard as his cock brushes the front of Keith's jeans. Keith tries to swallow a moan at the contact and almost succeeds, but he knows Blue hears it. Blue slides his arms around Keith's neck loosely, still softly singing as he leans back in;

_Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet  
Well I'm about to turn up the heat_

_I'm here for your entertainment_

Blue strokes his hands down Keith's shoulders again, undoing each button of his shirt with the beat of the music, rolling his hips, arching his body into Keith's. When he gets to the bottom of Keith's shirt he pulls it out from his belt, parting the material and running his hands across Keith's stomach and pecs, fingertips grazing his nipples and sending a jolt of electric lust to the base of his cock. 

_Oh, do you know what you got into?_  
_Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do?_  
_ Cause it's about to get rough for you_

_I'm here for your entertainment_

Blue's eyes are blown wide, gaze heavy lidded, a flush of arousal across his cheeks, his neck. He moves languidly, not in any hurry to rush things. "Here, put your hands on my sides," Blue says breathlessly, taking hold of Keith's hands and placing them just above his hips. "Feel me move for you." 

Like this, Blue's movements are amplified times ten; Keith can feel every tense of his muscles, can watch his abs contract and see how turned on Blue is, cock fully hard now, the tip visible above the waist band of his shorts, leaking sticky precome against the fine trail of hair leading from his navel. 

Keith knows this sort of thing isn't normal for a lap dance – there's nothing wrong with a guy who likes what he does for a living – but something in the atmosphere has changed, Blue's ready to go off and Keith's not far behind.

"Please let me move my hands?" Keith manages to gasp out without sounding entirely desperate.

"Yes." Blue looked a little wrecked; it's a good look on him. "Fuck, yes, do it."

Maybe Blue is expecting Keith to go straight for the goods, but Keith has a suspicion he needs to confirm first. He strokes the flat of his palm up Blue's flank, making him arch his back – making Keith see supernovae for a moment when their dicks touch – and to his neck. He slides his fingers under that damn collar and pulls Blue forward gently. Blue sucks in a breath and tilts his head to the side in a sign of submission.

Fuck. _Fuckfuckfuck_. Keith knew it, had suspected it since this lap dance started. He pulls Blue closer, leans in until his nose is pressed against Blue's collar, right up against his scent gland. Holy shit, Blue _is_ an omega; it's not just a gimmick to pull in the crowd. And he's –

"Pre-heat," Keith gasps out, voice catching brokenly on the last word. His entire body is buzzing from Blue's addictive scent. "You're going into heat."

Blue lets out a soft moan, has stopped rolling his hips in favour of pressing his body as close to Keith's as he can get it. "I’m sorry." Blue is breathing hard, lips parted, panting against Keith's neck. "I thought I could last out the night; I need the paycheck," he adds apologetically. He pulls back with difficulty, brushing his hand through his hair, dance forgotten. He looks a little lost, high on pheromones and struggling to stay focused, vulnerable and lost. "Didn't count on you though," he says huskily. "Thought I could do a quick favour for a friend – Shiro – for his brother's birthday, a quick dance, then get the hell out of here and home. Didn't count on you – on your scent being so fucking addicting that it would accelerate my pre-heat."

Keith lets out a growl, an actual, honest-to-god growl of approval. It's shocking; he's never made a noise like that – it's totally unacceptable in public – but the way Blue reacts is incredible. Blue sucks in a hot, shocked breath, eyes wide for a second, and then he's leaning in, lips on Keith's. Keith's got his hand in Blue's hair before he knows it; he's leaning forward, crowding his omega, and holy shit – _his_ omega? What the fuck is wrong with him? Instead of pulling back, Blue licks at Keith's lips, seeking permission, and Keith opens, lets Blue slide his tongue inside and deepen the kiss, which turns frantic and heated in seconds. 

Keith's bare skin slides against Blue's, from chest to stomach, and Blue's fingers are at Keith's waistband, shaking slightly. That pulls Keith up short; he breaks the kiss and grabs Blue's hands. "You okay?" he asks, gaze dropping down and then back up. "What do you need? Do you need me to get you a cab, get you home?"

Blue whines, a small noise at the back of his throat. "I don't – I can't make it in time."

_Fuck_. This is Keith's fault – or nature's, or compatibility and secondary genders – doesn't matter, he decides. He needs to get this under control. If he doesn't; there's going to be another knothead alpha out there with no principles who'll try to take advantage, especially since some of these entitled assholes will think that cause Blue is a stripper that he's also a whore. They would be _very_ wrong, and Keith would be happy to show them how wrong they are.

"Keith? You're growling again," Blue says. He's smirking a little, and it seems as if Keith's closeness is actually helping him stay a little more alert.

Keith flushes with embarrassment. "Sorry, just worried."

Blue tilts his head to the side and bites his lip. "Aw, Kitten, you care," he teases, and Keith's vision goes white for moment with the simple, base desire and _need_ to ravish the fuck out of this gorgeous creature.

Blue leans back in again, nosing under Keith's ear, breath hot on his neck. This close, Keith gets to scent Blue as well, and he closes his eyes for a moment, trying to keep himself in check. "There's something you can do for me," Blue whispers.

"Anything for you," Keith replies, licking at the leather band of Blue's collar. He wants to bite; he's acting like a fucking caveman. Is this how compatible couples act around each other? Fuck, how do people cope with this shit? He runs a soothing palm down Blue's spine, feeling him arch forward. He does it again. It's like playing with fire and he knows it, but doesn't care.

"Let me suck your cock," Blue says needily. 

"What?" That does pull Keith back to reality a little. "Okay, so that's a little more than cab fare home," Keith replies neutrally. "You're pre-heat, is that a good idea?"

"I'm consenting." Blue leans back, hands still kneading Keith's shoulders, like he's restless and can't stop moving. "I need – I need something of _yours_ to get me home, then I can let go and let my heat happen. I don't need your money; I need the hour's respite your come can give me to get home safely."

Okay, so that seemed… reasonable? Keith mentally shakes himself. Is he consenting? Yes, he is. He looks Blue over; Blue seems lucid, knows what he's asking for. Keith's gonna do this. He's not a saint; he's definitely going to get something out of this, but he also gets to know that Blue is going to be safe too. 

"Okay, on your knees, love." Keith's voice is almost unrecognizable to himself; husky and soft, deep. 

Blue lets out a relieved sigh, gives Keith a peck on the cheek in thanks, before scrabbling off his lap and between his knees. Before Keith gets a chance to take a deep breath, Blue has his buckle undone and the zipper down. Keith almost comes from the relief of no longer being confined in his pants, but manages to keep it together. Blue pushes Keith's knees apart and with a glance up and a smirk, he leans forward, nuzzling against Keith's underwear, breathing deeply, mouth parted. 

"Oh god," Blue moans, breath hot and damp against Keith's underwear. He places open mouthed kisses from the base to the sticky tip, pulling Keith's cock free and palming it, stroking gently as he gets a feel for the weight. "You smell so good here," Blue says, lapping at the tip and swirling his tongue around greedily. 

Okay, well, _fuck_. Keith is going die happy in about thirty seconds he thinks, because he never expected anyone to sound that hungry just before a blow job. And the look on Blue's face; eager and excited, turned on and needy. Any other thoughts dissolve into the ether when Blue leans forward and slides Keith's cock into his mouth, not stopping for breath until he's taken Keith down to where his knuckles are wrapped around the base.

_Ohmygod_. Keith sucks in a shuddering breath and fights the urge to twitch his hips forward into that hot, wet suction. When Blue flicks his tongue, Keith does let out a moan, head rolling back against the back of the couch, hand reaching down to card through Blue's hair in encouragement. Blue angles his head on the backstroke, dropping down to take as much as he can. The angle pushes the tip of Keith's cock against the roof of Blue's mouth and _Jesus fucking Christ_, Keith had no idea that was a thing. 

Yep, he's gonna last about thirty seconds. He's been on edge since Blue took the stage, realizes now that the moment their eyes met it had been game over. This evening was never going to end any differently; they would have found each other regardless. Blue moans and the vibrations settle heavy in Keith's dick. "That's it sweetheart, show me what you got," he says breathlessly, and Blue moans again. Keith nudges his hips forward a little, and Blue sinks down the last inch. He seems to go boneless for a second, like this was exactly what he needed; a mouth stuffed full of alpha cock, on the edge and needy, a vessel for Keith's come and nothing else. 

"God, gonna – " Keith can't get words out, can only fist his hand in Blue's hair and hope for the best as Blue slides back up his cock and swallows on the down stroke, setting a fast pace. "Gonna – " Hot, tight, heat, Keith wants to be in Blue's ass, wants to fuck him so hard through his heat he can't take any more, fill him up until – until –

Keith comes so hard his vision goes black for a moment, and Blue lets out the most obscene moan, sexy and broken as he swallows every drop Keith paints his throat with. It takes Keith almost a minute to get his senses back; he lays there as Blue laps the last drops of come from his cock, places a kiss over his spent dick, and tucks him back in his pants.

When he slides back into Keith's lap Blue looks content, eyes sparkling and lips red, plump and bruised. Keith can't help pulling him forward into a kiss, and then he notices how hard Blue still is. He strokes his hand down Blue's side, hand pausing at his hip. "Want me to get you?" he says, nuzzling in to Blue's shoulder.

"Please, yes," Blue says breathlessly. "I wasn't sure if – "

Keith's not gonna wait long enough to find out the rest of that sentence; he's got his hand in Blue's shorts, pushing aside the jockstrap he's wearing underneath, finally getting his hands on that impressive cock. It's heavy in his hand, long and slightly curved at the tip, and Keith is pretty sure it would feel amazing in his ass or in his mouth, but for now, his hand will do.

"Fuck, that doesn't help when you say shit like that," Blue stutters out brokenly, dropping his forehead to Keith's shoulder, and it takes a moment for Keith to realize he must have said that last bit out loud. _Whoops_. 

He strokes slowly at first with his hand, using his thumb to smear the sticky precome around. Keith loves this the most; loves knowing he has a guy underneath him – all hot, hard, straining muscle and velvet cock. Blue starts to push his hips into Keith's hand and Keith's squeezes a little, creating a tight channel for Blue to fuck into. Blue's breath is getting faster, hitching a little as Keith picks the pace up. Blue's talking – doesn't seem to actually stop, really, he notices, little commentary like _oh god, yes, there_, or _please, yes, please more_ as his hips fuck restlessly into Keith's hand. He's shaking now, body trembling tight, and Keith can't resist leaning in to mouth over the collar, so close to Blue's scent gland. His scent is bright, warm and so intense this close, and Keith has to fight most of his baser urges. Nosing at the collar seems to set Blue off; he gasps, hands tightening on Keith's shoulders, breath shuddering out quick and fast as Keith takes a tentative lick over the edge of his scent gland.

"Oh fuck, please, do it," Blue gasps, shuddering.

Keith grabs him by the hair and pulls his head back so he can stare into Blue's eyes. Blue whimpers, eyes lidded and hot with desire, mouth parted. He's a fucking wet dream, and Keith can't look away. He strokes Blue faster, watching his body wind tight with desire, watches his nipples harden to rough points, the flush crawl down Blue's neck to his chest. He twists his wrist on the upstrokes, just to watch Blue struggle to keep it together, to keep his eyes open.

"Come for me," Keith commands, and watches as Blue whines deep in the back of his throat, body rolling like a wave as his body arches into Keith's hand, hot come painting across his stomach and Keith's knuckles in pulses.

Blue folds forward, and Keith pulls him back in, hand on the back of his head to nestle his omega into the crook of his shoulder. Let's him breathe in Keith's scent, comforting and content. There's one thing Keith is absolutely going to do, and he pulls his hand up to lick Blue's come from his knuckles, letting out a happy sigh when the rich flavour bursts across his tongue. He tilts his head when Blue lets out a tired moan upon seeing what Keith's doing.

"That make you happy?" Keith asks, ruffling the hair at the nape of Blue's neck, stroking gently. "You taste good."

Blue nods. "Hmmm, yeah. It does." He shifts. "Five minutes and I should go. I don't wanna push my luck with the help you've given me."

Keith nods. "Um, what about what we did? I know that's not usual to – "

Blue laughs; it sounds a little more like his mischievous self. "Ah, not to worry. When we first got in here I switched off the camera." He points towards the panel on the wall that Keith had seen him touch. "Allura owed me a favour and you were the favour I wanted."

Keith feels himself blush with pleased pride like a fucking teenager. "Can I ask you something?" Keith says hesitatingly.

"Sure, Kitten," Blue says with a grin, sitting up and tucking a strand of hair behind Keith's ear. "Ask away."

"Can I drive you home? I don't mean to sound clingy or weird – just – just call it an alpha thing. I need to know you made it home safe tonight."

Now it's Blue's turn to blush, and there's something fond in his expression now as he leans forward and places a soft, slow kiss to Keith's lips. "Usually, the answer would be an absolute hard no to anyone from this bar," Blue says gently. "But you're different. So yes, you can drive me home. Give me five to grab a quick shower?"

"Sure." Keith grins, because now his inner alpha can relax, knowing he'll see his omega home safe for his heat. 

"Meet me out by the employee entrance at the back," Blue says, standing upright and tucking himself in, making himself seem somewhat presentable. He pauses to consider Keith for a moment, must see something there that agrees with him. "By the way," he says, holding out his hand. "The name's Lance."

Keith takes Lance's hand with a grin. "Pleased to meet you, Lance."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently writing a sequel, so if you have requests, please drop me a note or an ask on Tumblr!


End file.
